


Survivor

by septimaaliceohhey



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Absolutely no smut, BECAUSE I SAID SO YOU FREAKS, Cas is Done, Crack, Crowley is a Little Shit, Crowley is mega hot, Cuddling on a sofa, Dean Winchester Cooks, Drinking, Everyone Hates Crowley, F/F, Genderswap, God i love the tag filler, Kevin Tran is So Done, Kevin thinks that sports bras are crop tops, Kevin's Boat, M/M, Piano, Sabriel height difference, Slow Build, Various Tropical Drinks, americas next top model inspo lmao dont hurt me, no brownies were harmed in the making of this fic, noise cancelling headphones, the ocean, trickster god
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 05:02:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 6,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17760269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/septimaaliceohhey/pseuds/septimaaliceohhey
Summary: When Sam and Dean wake up as women, they knew things were going to be weird.When all their friends/enemies are female too, they realized life can always get weirder.Now trapped by a demigod in Kevin’s houseboat, things still haven’t reached their weirdest.Comedy, pianos, and references to America’s Next Top Model ensue.





	1. Its a Boat Motherfuckers

**Author's Note:**

> i rewrote the first part so it didnt sound like shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slow build so be warned. It starts to get interesting on ch. 6 but every chapter is very short so...

0 Days In  
That was not Sam's face. The face in the dirty motel mirror was softer and slightly more slanted. The only thing that made Sam realize this wasn’t a sleep deprivation induced hallucination was the familiar dip in his chin and the roughness in deep-set eye sockets that came with being a hunter for so many years. He also still had the occasional mole speckled across his face. There was a new weight on his head, too. Hair. Lots of it. Draped all the way down to his lower back in waves.

What the actual fuck?

Sam was in the middle of having a minor mental breakdown at his new appearance when some sort of yelp sounded from the main part of the hotel room. When Sam rushed out of the bathroom, there stood an unfamiliar woman standing at the window, near the end of Dean’s bed. While the woman’s back was turned away from him, he caught her reflection in the shattered window.

Female-Dean had the same composure as Male-Dean. She held herself the same way and had the same pouty expression, except she was now gaping open-mouthed at herself in the window and was considerably less masculine. Unlike Sam, she still had a hard-set jaw and was very clearly “Dean,” with a more feminine, athletic body. The considerable difference was her height and hair; she had very obviously shrunk a few inches and her hair was now down past her shoulders. 

Dean caught Sam in the reflection of the window and spun around, eyes widening at the realization that this was not a dream.

“What do we do now?” Sam asked.

~

The thing they did was try to contact Castiel. The angel did not bother responding. 

After twenty minutes of shouting curses to the sky, Dean threw back a shot and collapsed on her motel bed. She was mentally exhausted after trying to wrap her mind around her new body. Sam was mentally exhausted after trying to figure out who would want to do this to them. Sam even tried to contact Gabriel, to no avail. 

“There must be something going on,” Dean muttered, rubbing at her temples. “But what the hell is it?”

Sam shrugged, finishing off her tenth voicemail to Kevin. She figured that maybe he would be able to help them, or even assist them in researching. But he did not pick up and every call ended after the second ring. Dean threw an arm over her eyes.

“That’s it,” she growled. “I give up.”

Sam felt the selflessness of a higher deity bless her with the buzzing of her phone. She picked up immediately.

“Kevin, finally, where-“ Sam was cut off by an unfamiliar voice interrupt her own.

“Sam, we have a problem.”


	2. When You Try Your Best and You Don't Succeed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> again, another rewrite bc i have finally realized my sins with writing this

0 Days In

Sam has always been a constant state of pain. It ran in her blood in a way. But womanhood was just plain hell. Her head was always weighed down with hair and putting it up in a ponytail took twenty minutes of precious time. Sam didn't know if the curse was permanent or not, but if she lost one more hairtie, she would scream.

Dean was holding out better. She discovered the magical world of moisturizer and she swears she has never smelled better. And she, on the other hand, was doing just fine with her new hair.  
"Its a science, Sammy, I swear. Ponytails are not that hard. And once we contact Kevin, we're finding a way to break this damned curse and you can go back to your normal hairstyle." 

Sam thought that maybe she would throttle Dean if her sister threw her hair back nonchalantly one more time. 

~

However, the good news was that Kevin got back to them, saying that he (she) (whatever) would meet them at the boat. They tried to call Cas again but the angel seemed to be missing the memo. 

And so, it seems, was everyone else. 

Nevertheless, they jumped into the impala and tried to find Kevin Tran to figure out what the fuck was going on.

~

As soon as Sam stepped onto the dock, she could tell something was off. Immediately, she gripped her dagger that she stashed in her belt. 

"Somethings wrong," she muttered.

"Actually," a voice drawled from the shadows, "I'd say everything is just peachy." 

Sam recognized that voice, however, she didn't remember it being that high pitched or feminine. 

"You've got to be shitting me right now," Dean said, stashing her gun back into her belt. 

Crowley (she-Crowley that is) walked out from the shadows, a poisoned smile gracing her now-full lips.

"I'd say 'hello boys' but that's not really applicable anymore, now is it?" 


	3. There’s more of them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is your other coauthor, finally getting involved in this fic!
> 
> Anyway, I’m taking some liberties with the boat for plot convenience purposes.

5 Minutes In  
Crowley was oddly comfortable as a woman, a fitted—but still classy—black dress (probably designer) that showed every generous curve coupled with a knockout face and artful hair and makeup providing a stark contrast to Sam and Dean’s uncertainty as women. They weren’t messy, but they definitely weren’t comfortable.

“Moose, Squirrel, looking radiant as always,” Crowley said, checking her nails.

“Shut up, Crowley,” the sisters said in exasperated unison. The demon simply smirked.

There was a moment of silence where the three inspected each other’s new bodies.

“Did you...grow?” Dean asked. One thing she was certain of was that she should be at least four inches taller than Crowley, and here they were, eye to eye.

Crowley tapped a four-inch heel on the metal floor of the boat. They were the expensive kind, needle-thin and sky-high, with blood red bottoms.  
Dean sighed. (She really did hate how the demon was still flawless.)  
“I really don’t think this is our biggest problem,” said a voice from the corner of the room.

“Who-?” Dean’s eyes snapped up from her own, heelless boots.

“Kevin?” Sam’s tone, body language, and eyes betrayed a shock she should be over by now.

Girl-Kevin was tiny, slender, delicate, with black hair brushing her chest. She still wore male-Kevin’s clothes, and they hung loose on her petite frame. The true dead giveaway to her identity was the familiar steeliness in her eyes.

“Did you know that Lady-Kevin was here?” Dean rounded on Crowley.

“Something pulled me here, and unfortunately little Kevina was prepared.” A ring glittered on her finger as she pointed up at the ceiling—and the bright red devil’s trap painted there.


	4. Have You Ever Heard of Too Much Piano??

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley is a hoe and the trickster god still sucks. Update: the chapters will be switched between me and my co author as just a reminder

15 Minutes In

If Sam weren't in so much shock over she-Crowley, she would've smiled at the stupidity of the demon's actions. However, she had more important things to worry about, like how Gabriel had just appeared into existence at that very moment.  
She-Gabriel, that is.  
She had a nice pixie cut with curly hair practically hanging over her right eye. She was average height and was wearing a casual t-shirt and jeans. Sam would be lying if she said that she thought the angel wasn’t pretty.

"Seems like I'm the one who was tricked. Ironic, right?" She said with a mischievous grin.  
Sam shook her head. 

"Sammy, nice hair, really bringing out the eyes."

"Gabriel, we don't have to time for you to flirt," Dean said.  
Sam rolled her eyes but blushed just slightly.

"Ah yes, this little dilemma requires our full attention."

"I have an inquiry," Crowley piped up, ignoring the previous conversation. "If me and this little twerp are stuck as women, then where's the angel with the nice hair?" She paused.  
"Oh don't tell me he's embarrassed. Or should I say 'she'?"

"Cas hasn't been answering us. If he really was a woman, then we would know," Dean interrupted.

"Not exactly." Sam jumped just slightly at the sound of an unfamiliar voice behind her. She turned around to see a prettier version of Castiel.

"I've been tracking down this trickster god perpetrator and it doesn't seem too happy at the moment."

Cas was a very pretty girl, with mid-length brown hair and a slender body. She was now sporting loose-fitting pants that one might see at a job interview. She still had her trench coat and blue tie but she was a tad bit shorter. Sam caught Dean staring. 

"Well, aren't you lovely. Now can I please get out of this trap and be able to move about freely?" Crowley asked.

Kevin crossed her arms.  
"I don't trust his guy at all."  
Sam sighed and rubbed her temples.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but let her out."  
"Seriously?"  
"I know how it sounds, but just do it."  
Kevin shrugged and smeared the line on the ceiling. 

"Ahh, much better. Now, ladies, I do believe that we should get situated. I have a feeling we're going to be here for a while."

"Sadly," Cas muttered with a blank expression. 

"So, I have taken the liberty of sprucing the place up a little bit," Crowley went on, ignoring the angel.

"Wait, what?!" Kevin asked. 

"Oh don't worry, I just added in a few little things to make myself more comfortable." She waved her hand at the door.  
Simultaneously, Kevin, Dean, and Sam rushed through to the small living room. Gabriel and Cas followed. 

Inside looked an average amount of normal, with the walls a little darker, the couch a little nicer (with actual leather), and the floor cleaned of stains. Except for the ("tiny" as Crowley would say) fact that there was a grand piano right in the middle of it all. Pitch black with gold keys and sloping curves. Crowley slowly walked in, her heels clicking on the spotless floor.  
"You like it? I wanted it bigger but the tiny boat simply couldn't take much more."

It dawned on Sam how demons don't sleep and how loud this piano could be.

"We're fucked," she muttered.


	5. Reality Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, plot!!!

20 Minutes In

Sam might've started crying from the realization that she would get zero sleep on this boat if it wasn't for their trickster god friend appearing right at that second.

A bright light split across the newly redecorated living room. When it faded, there was...someone (something?) in the middle of the room.

The being standing before them was a trickster. It’s very essence was mischief, but other than that, there weren’t words for it. It was like a multifaceted jewel, only each facet was a different face.

It was very difficult to look at and Sam had to squint to look it in the eye(s).

It was almost as weird as the fact that they were all female.

“So, you may be attributing this to me, which is fair because I did it it.”

Everyone was uncharacteristically quiet, especially Gabriel.

“Anyway,” the trickster continued, “close the Gates of Hell, and the world gets far less interesting. Get you six out of the way, I get to keep having fun. Leave you on a boat in the middle of the ocean for a few weeks, you become my own personal reality show. The sex swap was just to make things more interesting.”

“Hold on, bud, the whole Trickster God thing is MY act!” Gabriel growled, starting to call forth her powers. The glow in her eyes was genuinely impressive but the god gave what Sam assumed was a blank expression.

It snapped what was presumably fingers, and Gabriel’s power was just... gone. “No powers.” 

Gabriel’s face was unmasked shock as she fell back. Crowley reeled as though she had been hit. Cas’s reaction was more subtle, but even she fell into a crouch. The god pointed to a pile of various essentials. (Packs of food, clothes, toothbrushes, and what Sam would later shudder at, pads.)

“That should last you for a few weeks,” the god said, clearly satisfied with it’s work.

Then it let out a laugh of sorts.

“Oh, this is going to be so much fun!”

Then it was just simply gone.


	6. Brownie Gate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From now on, the chapters will start with a confessional style quotes, (like on a reality tv show)

Three Days In

Crowley: I've been here in substandard living conditions for approximately three days. Six girls and one bathroom should probably be added to Hell's torture regime. Kevin's about to burn this place down with her curling iron and no one ever cleans anything. There's stuff everywhere. 

Sam: It's pretty messy because nobody picks their stuff up. That's a lie. It's Crowley and Gabriel's mess. 

~

Everyone had their own living style and a reason why no one ever really got mad at them. Well, some people did.  
Kevin kept everything in drawers, but the drawers were full of disorganized clothes and possessions jammed into them. 

Sam and Dean live out of bags. They don't have much stuff, and well-fitting sports bras, lady jeans, and tops were left by the god. No one messes with them because Dean cooks and Sam is a whizz with the blow dryer. 

Cas isn't really one for worldly possessions, and she does the dishes. 

Gabriel never throws away her candy wrappers. She has a small bag full of earings (hundreds of them) because one of her ears is dotted with about ten piercings. She also always takes her shoes off and leaves them places. 

Crowley keeps her things fairly neat- in the closet hangs a row of beautiful, expensive looking black business-y dresses and several pairs of stiletto heels standing at attention on a shelf.  
She doesn't afford neatness to anyone else's possessions. 

There are several betting pots about whether she'll ever help clean, especially considering 95% of the mess is hers. 

It had gotten so bad that they all placed the name of the person they wanted to kick off the boat into a hat. Every single name turned up "Crowley." 

What was even worse was that even though they held a late-night seance that led to the demon magically kicked off the boat, she turned up the next day on the roof, sipping a martini. They all collectively groaned. 

"I'm about to shoot myself," Dean muttered. 

"Crowley, do you think you could actually clean up once in a while," Sam asked once she got off the roof. 

"Hmm," she muttered then ultimately tipped her glass upside down so that the drink spilled on the floor. "How about no."

Sam had to restrain Dean from stabbing the demon in the eye. 

~

Over the next few days, the situation worsened. They kept trying to kick Crowley off the boat and every time she came back the next day with various tropical drinks. And Crowley, Queen of Petty, made no move to help clean. In fact, when Dean made brownies and left them out to cool, Crowley took the liberty to carve "clean up your mess" into them.  
Dean decided the best thing to do was to shoot her. It did not work. 

Cas did not care for anything that was happening so she took up meditating at all hours of the day. At one point, Sam accidently tripped over her which led to a long rant from the angel. 

Things began to get very dire, however, when Gabriel ran low on candy.


	7. Powers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I honestly don't know if this is good or not but if youve made it this far, props to you.

One Week In

Dean: Few things bring me joy in life and Crowley is definitely not one of them. 

~

For the humans on the boat, seeing the other beings powerless was deeply off- like seeing something private and personal. 

Cas was careful- careful not to drop things for spill drinks, and definitely careful to not need her missing powers. She was the least human of the bunch, not changing clothes or eating- she was still an angel, just without true magic. There was no need for those bits of humanity. 

Gabriel still made messes, she just didn't pick them up. Sometimes, she would forget herself and try to snap candy into existence or clean up a plate she broke and she would curse to herself. Occasionally, Sam would bring her a candy bar from the box the multifaced god left them. Sam had hidden them on a high shelf so Gabriel wouldn't eat them all in a day. (She really did have a problem.) 

~

On the first week in, it was a warm afternoon and everyone else was on the open deck. (Crowley was trying to figure out where they were and Castiel had to restrain Dean from pushing her overboard. Kevin was about to dump all their asses in the ocean any second.)

"Sam?" Gabriel was more subdued today. "I should have powers. I’m an archangel for God's sake!" 

Sam settled on the sofa and puller her long, thick hair into an Ariana Grande-style ponytail. 

"Well, if it makes you feel better, you're learning to live without powers and I'm learning to live with all this hair."

Gabriel looked into Sam's eyes (they were a very pretty color). "Why don't you cut it?"

"Dont tell anyone, but I'm attached," she whispered. 

Gabriel fell off the sofa from laughing so hard. 

"Its not that funny!" Sam said between laughs (they were more like giggles but she'll never admit it). 

"I—don’t feel like expressing my feelings but I want you to kiss me.” Gabriel said incredibly quickly, hoisting herself back up onto the couch. 

"Weirdo.” Sam said and laughed again. Before Gabriel’s face could fall she continued. “I want to kiss you, too.” For a moment, Sam wasn’t sure why she said it, but somehow it was a part of her, like her hands or eyes or mile of hair.

Their first kiss was soft and gentle and short and Dean pretended not to see them jump apart when she came in for a glass of water. And she pretended to not have told Cas anything. 

"Hold on," Crowley said, interrupting her. "Are you telling me that dear Samantha and Gabby are swapping spit on my couch."

"I can't believe Sam and Gabriel are swapping spit at all," Kevin muttered. 

"It is deeply disturbing," Cas added. 

Kevin sighed. "Who knows who'll be next. Dean and I or something weirder."

"Hey, if I'm making out with anyone, its Cas."

Cas looked at her blankly. 

"I would say thank you but I don't know how to respond to that."

Dean blushed. She was more prone to blushing as a woman. 

"Oh God," Crowley said, breaking the silence, "I can see them through the window. You'd think they'd be more discreet." 

"Stop looking, you perv."

"Its not my fault, they're right there, I can see everything."

"I will push you off this boat."

"Try me dear Deanna."

~

Sam broke away from Gabriel. "Did someone just fall off the boat?"


	8. I Think Someone Called the FBI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone gets black out drunk. Shenanigans ensue.

One Week and Six Days In

Cas: Gabirel is currently verified on something called Twitter and now makes me show up in every video she posts. I don't understand why its called Twitter. Where's the bird?

~

Cas was the only one who didn't wake up with a splitting headache. Crowley and Gabriel didn't have a headache, per se, but they were very confused as to what year it was. When Dean (the last one to wake up) finally opened her eyes and tried to rub the pain in her skull to bearable, Cas was the first to say anything. 

"Coffee?"

"Do you have any?" Dean mumbled. 

"Only with a few drops of vodka in it. You poured alcohol into every single cup we had in this ship."

"About that, what happened? 'Cause I had a dream that I made out with Crowley and I dont want that to be real."

Cas grimaced. Crowley winked. 

"Wait, what happened to the rest of us?" Kevin asked.

"You admitted you couldn't hold your liquor then immediately drank three shots, Gabriel tried to eat the couch, and Sam thought she was pregnant," Cas replied. 

"I thought I was what?!"

"Hold on," Kevin interrupted, "start from the very beginning."

"Well, it all started when Dean said 'hey everybody, lets get drunk.'"

"Huh. That easily?"

Castiel nodded. "So first off, Dean got out the liquor and soon got tipsy. Then you said something along the lines of 'Can I bay yo a druank.'" 

"I think she tried to say 'can I buy you a drink,'" Crowley stated. 

"I thought so too. It appears that your old flirting techniques go on autopilot when you get drunk."

"Then what happened?" Sam asked, ignoring Dean's shocked expression.

"Well, then Gabriel drank two entire bottles worth of shots and passed out for fifteen minutes. Then she woke up and started gnawing on the couch. Then Crowley drank the equivalent of that except times three and that's when she threatened to call the police on Dean. Dean got turned on by that and started making out with her."

"Oh gross," Gabriel said. Sam placed her hand on her shoulder. 

"You're the one who tried to eat the couch."

Cas continued. "Kevin was the next to go. She downed three shots and then she passed out. That was the end of her night. Then Dean tried to hit on me by asking if I wanted to make out. I told her no because she was drunk."

"Wait, because I was drunk?"

"Then Crowley started to pick fights with everyone." Crowley looked incredibly self satisfied—but then again, that was just her default expression these days.

"Wait, Cas, because I was drunk?!"

"Shush Dean, I wanna hear the story," Gabriel said. 

"She tried to fight Sam, but Gabriel jumped in the way at the last second. That is why you have a black eye."

"Huh," she said, patting her bruised eye. 

"Weirdly, Sam thought she was pregnant and kept holding her stomach."

"Thats why there are pregnancy tests in my room."

"I now know that Sam has no idea how the female body works," Cas said, taking another shot of coffee before continuing.

"Then someone somehow brought a giant inflatable duck onto the roof. I'm pretty sure that same person was the one who pretended to be Elton John and play the piano blindfolded."

"Entertaining, wasn’t it," Crowley had the incredibly annoying ability to play everything off as though she’d been planning it for days. 

"Anyways, you all fell asleep at around 4 am and have been asleep for two days. In that time frame, I've been praying to God that I don't kill you all. And now, I'm going to go to room and waste away the rest of my being pondering why it was me that that got chosen to stay with you all." She promptly walked off.

"Do you think this means that she could've kissed me?"

"Anyone who gets to kiss you is very lucky indeed," Crowley said. Dean could deal with either a hangover or Crowley’s innuendos. Both at once had her on very thin ice. Her splitting hangover headache won out and she went to go take a nap.

Punching Crowley featured heavily in her dreams for the next few days.


	9. Crowley Gets Kicked Off the Boat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean gets fed up with Crowley

2 Weeks and 9 Days In

Sam: Dean asked Crowley to clean up once and now Crowley plays the piano really loudly whenever Dean manages to fall asleep.

Dean: I'm just about ready to throw that damn piano overboard. 

~

Crowley was playing scales. To be fair she was a good piano player, but currently, no one was paying attention to her. Dean was making banana pancakes and those things were god tier. 

"Hey Crowley, could you play a little quieter?" Dean asked, serving pancakes. 

The scales got marginally louder. 

Dean silently plotted her revenge; everyone else ate pancakes. 

~

Sam and Dean could lift the piano- but just barely. 

However, before they could actually take it anywhere, Gabriel discovered the candy bars and Sam had to pry her away with kisses while Dean rehid them. 

When they came back, Crowley was weighing the piano down with dark obsidion bricks. The god encouraged pettiness, and when asked right, he would grant them with necessary items. 

The piano situation was getting dire. Kevin now slept in noise cancelling headphones. 

~

The next morning,with Crowley otherwise occupied in the one bathroom doing makeup (Dean refused to admit she was jealous of the demon's make up skills), Dean took action. Every single thing of Crowley's went into an unused duffel bag. 

Quietly, efficiently, she pulled black dresses off their hangers and scopped stiletto heels unceremoniously into the bag. Being vaguely abusive to incredibly expensive things is better than therapy, Dean decides.

"Hey Crowley, meet me on the deck!" Dean called. 

On two different sides of the boat, an angel and a demon looked up from what they were doing. One, in a very posh accent said, "What does the idiot want now?" The other, slightly deadpan, said, "Dean is about to do something stupid."

~

Dean stood on the deck, duffel in hand. Crowley's heels clicked and echoed on the metal as she approached. She looked mildly annoyed. The sea was rough and they both kept a tight grip on the railing. Dean held the bag out. 

"Stop playing the piano at all hours of the god damn day and let me and Sam move it, or everything you own goes in the sea."

Before Crowley could say anything, a particularly big wave crashed into the boat. 

The duffel's straps slid from Dean's grasp. 

Crowley reached out for it but pivoting on knife-thin heels and slightly damp decks don't go well together. 

Both the demon and the bag hit the water and neither bobbed back up. 

Dean's eyes widened as she realized how much she fucked up. 

~

Within ten seconds, everyone was on the deck and peering over the railing. Cas was telling Dean off. Gabriel was eating popcorn. 

The sky was dark and the water was even darker. It was as clear as a whole damn cup of foreshadowing. A storm was coming. 

~

Crowley was surrounded by black. The water was bitingly cold and "up" had become a foreign concept. Her eyes caught a glimpse of sand and she reconnected. However, she didn't expect to see a huge, elaborate mandala of lines carved deep into the sand. 

A sigil.

The biggest one she'd ever seen.


	10. Multi-Faceted, but Every Facet is Bored

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Multi-faceted God is disappointed by his DIY reality show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the super long hiatus. There should be something resembling regularity with the updates soon.
> 
> It took me so many attempts to write this chapter— I think there’s like three different versions of it, so I hope you enjoy this one!

Two Weeks and Nine Days In

The God With Many Facets was bored stiff by its “reality show.” A gender bender! Closed quarters! Strong personalities! Somehow, despite its god-tier premise (it laughed to itself a little, of course, being made by a god, the premise wasgod-tier), it was boring.

It had been on its phone for a few hours now, learning some slang terms, when suddenly, one of its facets (the one in the dimension that watched the boat) did whatever the equivalent is of tapping the other facets on the shoulder. Someone had fallen off the boat. Again.

“Do I have to deal with everything myself?” The god muttered under one of its many breaths. People off the boat meant people potentially seeing what was on the ocean floor—what it had gone to great lengths to put there- and if they figured out what it was, they could figure out how to stop it and leave before the god was ready.

~~~

“Well, can’t say I’m sad to see her go.” Dean said. 

“I’m not disagreeing with you, but you can’t just...push people off a boat.” Sam peered at the dark water below her.

“Unless said person is Crowley, in which case I just did.”

Gabriel came up to Sam and slid her arm around Sam’s waist. “Sam, Dean, I’m usually not the voice of reason, but she definitely slipped.” Gabriel flipped off the ocean. “Still, pretty glad she’s gone.”

Sam spoke: “Last time we kicked her off she just came right back.”

“Glad to see you’re mastering the art of thinking ahead.” Crowley was recovering well from the whiplash of finding herself back, perfectly dry, clutching the duffel bag in one hand.

“I’d say I’m glad you’re back, but I’m not.” Gabriel was characteristically...whatever Gabriel was.

The god was suddenly there, it’s many jewel-toned facets shining in the sun.  
“I’m doing this to you for fun, but that doesn’t there won’t be ANY rules-“

“What are you, our mother?” Dean snapped.

“Just don’t yeet each other off the boat.”

“What?” Sam asked, wrinkling her forehead in confusion.

“I’ve been trying out some slang from a website called...flitter? Twitter!” It was suddenly defensive, and one of its faces/dimensions blushed. “Don’t throw each other off the boat!” The god slipped back into its own plane of existence.

“That was weird.” Sam said, fixing her ponytail for what felt like the millionth time.

Crowley started heading towards the door back inside.

“Where are you going?” Dean asked.

“To enact some revenge.”

“You slipped.”

“Because of you.”

“What are you even going to do? Steal my socks? You still don’t have powers.”

“Thanks for the idea.” Crowley said as she went inside to steal Dean’s socks. And toothbrush. And whatever else she felt like—maybe throw some stuff in the ocean? The god only specified no people overboard—and never let it be said Crowley couldn’t always, always find a loophole.

 

~~~

 

The god watched as Sam smacked her head on the way in (low doorways vs tall people was a battle she couldn’t seem to win, despite being used to her height) while Crowley threw one of each pair of Dean’s socks overboard.  
It laughed. Maybe this reality show had been worth its time and effort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of your lovely authors is on the tall side, and felt an inclusion of Sam smacking her head was a necessary and realistic detail.
> 
> No matter how used to your height you are, you still hit your head.


	11. What the Fuck, We Got a Dress Code Now? Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this was 100% inspired by an assembly i had to go to a couple of days ago lmao

Two Weeks and Ten Days In

Barely a day past before the god came back. It was forced away from another one of it's more interesting pocket dimensions with the sight of Crowley and Castiel thrown overboard. Or rather the sound of Crowley and Castiel thrown overboard. It rolled all 150,326 eyes and grudgingly forced itself away from the dimension. These damn women were really putting a halt in the god's plans. This would not do. However, to really wrap one's head around what would make a god so infuriatingly frustrated to enforce a dress code on adult women that weren't actually women, one must start at the beginning. 

7am, complete darkness, and Gabriel tripping over a meditating Cas. 

This unfortunate loss of balance caused Gabriel a bruised wrist and a shouting match with a very angry angel. 

Sam walked in on the fight, the sounds of utter chaos disrupting her morning hair tie struggle. 

"Gabriel, I've told you a million times that I meditate here, and you can't just come blundering in and disrupt me!" 

"It's not my fault you were sat in complete darkness!" 

This had been going on for a good five minutes, so Sam thought she would step in. 

"What's going on?" she asked, half exasperated with everything that had been going on. 

"Archangel over here just tripped over me and disrupted my morning meditation," Cas growled. 

"It was pitch black, what was I supposed to do?! Sense where Cassie dear was doing her morning prayer session?"

Cas was about to bite back with a retort but Sam (thank god) interrupted her. 

"Gabriel, just say sorry," Sam muttered, rubbing at her temples (which had gotten thoroughly sore from the sheer amount of hair on her head). 

"Why am I supposed to say sorry, I'm the one who got hurt." She held up her bruised wrist as proof. Sam immediately went over to inspect it.

Cas rolled her eyes as Gabriel threw her a smirk that had “I have my girlfriend on my side and you don’t” plastered all over it. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Sam asked.

“Oh yeah, I’m fine. I’m the archangel Gabriel for god’s sake!” Gabriel smiled with watery eyes, hoping to milk out all the pity points she could get from the hunter. It was working. 

Cas opened her mouth to restate her argument but was, again, loudly interrupted.

“Don’t you know that it’s rude to wake a lady,” Crowley drawled, leaning against the doorway.

“First of all, that is not a saying and second of all, you don’t even need to sleep,” Cas said, growing increasingly frustrated every waking moment she was trapped in this boat. She had taken up her sleepless nights wandering her imprisonment, searching every crevice for some way to get the curse reversed. She would never admit it, but she knew the boat like the back of her hand.

Crowley stretched her back out like a cat, gracefully arching her back muscles of tension.

“Yes, it’s true, I technically don’t need to sleep. But it’s so much more refreshing. I haven’t felt this light in centuries. You should try it sometime, angel, it might get that chip off your shoulder.”

Cas stared back with a deadpan expression. 

“Wait, hold on, this is about me, remember?” Gabriel interrupted, still holding up her bruised hand. 

“No, it’s about my interrupted morning meditation.”

“Everybody knows not to interrupt Cas’s morning meditation,” Dean mumbled, pushing past Crowley to get to the coffee maker. The angel raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow at Gabriel. Cas, as a girl, was undeniably pretty. To be fair, they all were. But Cas had a sharp air of authority about her that made everybody else on the boat stare. (Except for Crowley.) 

“Yeah, but Dean, Gabriel is the one who got hurt,” Sam argued. Dean thought about this for a moment, making her stop the pouring of her coffee. Crowley smirked at the awkward silence that ensued.

“Uh oh, trouble in paradise?” She asked.

“Don’t make me throw you off this boat again Crowley,” Dean warned, still pouring herself an ungodly amount of caffeine.

“Ooh, right. Hate to throw a rock in your plans, Deana, but we can’t throw anyone off the boat anymore. Didn’t you hear what the god said?” Crowley had decided to keep the sigil she saw as a personal secret. She didn’t trust the god with overhearing her tell the others. And besides, what happens at the bottom of the ocean, stays at the bottom of the ocean.

“Yeah, and I don’t care. Nothing can ever stop me from punting your ass into the ocean.” Crowley smirked at the challenging words.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” She promptly walked out onto the deck of the boat.

The others shared a look at said, “She’s up to something and I don’t like it.”

Kevin was trying to catch some sleep after being awake all night by Crowley’s concert of piano scales.

As the group of girls walked outside, thus started the beginnings of a disaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok this took a hell of a time to write but i hope you enjoyed. i will say that my co-author and i will be editing a few of the earlier chapters to just make them more well written. we are still sticking to the same idea for every chapter, so dont worry yall. and remember, we got school, so sometimes it is difficult to keep up with chapters. however, i digress, and i really hope you stick with this story and where ever the hell it goes


	12. Dress Code pt 2

“Last time you fell overboard, it was an accident. Hopefully, the whatever it is will let this go.” Dean said. She went in to punt Crowley over the rail but just wound up kicking her really aggressively in the hip.

Sam, Cas, Gabriel, and Kevin all made eye contact, as if to say “Those two losers, at it again.”

Dean looked around like a cat that had just fallen and was checking to see if anyone had seen.

It was Gabriel who spoke first. “You know, Crowley threw your socks overboard yesterday.”

Dean successfully threw Crowley off the boat, making a mental note to do it again when she inevitably reappeared with a tropical drink. Crowley, was, as usual one step ahead. She had interlocked her fingers with Cas’s and they both plummeted into the ocean.

The god appeared on the deck. “One rule. I give you one simple rule, and you break it in a day.”

Everyone looked suitably terrified.

“Get them out yourselves this time. There’s a rope ladder right there. I literally could not have made this any easier.”

Gabriel flung the rope over the side of the boat, and everyone paused to enjoy the comedy act Cas and Crowley became when they both wanted something, be it the spot on the couch or, in this case, the rope ladder. An angel and a demon splashing each other was not a common sight. Cas won. Crowley rolled her eyes.

“If you’ve got me here, might as well tell you.” The god muttered under one of its breaths. “No shirtlessness!” It said to the small crowd, finally.

“What?” Dean said.

“Gabriel like to show off her sports bra.” Sam whispered back. 

“I always thought it was a crop top?” Kevin said.

“She went out of her way to tell me it was a bra.” Sam said.

“I do NOT need to know that kind of detail about your relationship.” Dean said, turning away. 

“So you know what I’m talking about.” The god said. “There’s poster board and markers on the table.”

“Can I get some help here?” Gabriel yelled. Apparently having the smallest person there try to hold a ladder while another climbed it was too much to ask.

Sam and Dean ran over to help hold the ladder. Cas got mostly up when Crowley decided to try to start climbing. The ladder shook violently and Cas hung on for her life. 

“Get off!” Dean yelled. They pulled a dripping Cas onto the deck where she started violently disassociating. Crowley was lifted on far less gently. 

The god handed her a piña colada.

“I mean this politely, but what the fuck?” Gabriel said.

“Do it for the meme.” The god said, sagely, and disappeared to go look at Twitter.


	13. Dress Code 3: The Uniforms

“Cas is showering first!” Dean yelled at Crowley.

“Cas went up the ladder first!” Crowley yelled back.

“Shut up! Sam’s making the rules!” Gabriel yelled even louder, somehow.

“What?” Dean and Crowley said in unison.

“I don’t like being stuck here and some rules would probably help.” Sam said, as the put-upon voice of reason. “You know what? Neither of you shower until we write some rules.”

Cas sat cross-legged on the floor and Crowley sat on the couch. 

“Not on the couch! You keep that couch dry or so help me-“

Crowley got off the couch.

“I never pegged you as the mom friend, Dean.” Gabriel said.

“Dean is definitely the mom friend.” Sam said. Sam knew. 

“Let’s start writing these rules already so I can go shower.” Crowley said.

~~~

The sign on the wall stated clearly: 

RULES

1\. Be respectful   
2\. No being shirtless (follow the dress code)  
3\. No throwing people off the boat. We don’t need that god here any more than it has to be.  
4\. Don't mess with other people’s possessions

~~~

Things mellowed out for the rest of the evening. Crowley’s shower was long, but not so long Cas didn’t have any hot water, Sam and Gabriel had a gentle, undisturbed makeout session in the bedroom, and Dean planned out a recipe for chocolate chunk cookies for the next day.

The only real event was Crowley holding a candlelight vigil and sea burial for her ruined shoes, but that was just Crowley.

 

~~~

Sam woke up early the next day. She went to her duffel to grab jeans and a shirt, but she could only find red. And khaki. And name tags.

“Guys?” She called out.

“This better be important.” Dean said, stumbling in. 

“I think it is, but I don’t know what it is.”

“What?” Dean was very groggy at her early wake up.

“Look. Red shirts, khaki pants, these name tag things. That’s it.” Sam said, going through her duffle.

“Me, too.” Gabriel said as she entered lugging her massively disorganized bag with her.

“Why?” Sam said.

“Maybe if you _observed _you would know.” Crowley said, pointing elegantly at a sign tacked up next to their “rules.”__

__“What does it say?” Dean asked, instantly awake._ _

__“Why would I know?” Crowley said._ _

__Dean rolled her eyes and Sam got up to read the sign._ _

__“Dress Code: Red polo, khaki pants, gray sneakers, name tag. Long hair must go in a ponytail. No jewelry other than stud earrings. And no hair pieces other than plain hair ties. No modifying the uniform in any way. Makeup, if worn, must be natural.”_ _

__“Quick question: what the _fuck _?” Gabriel said.___ _

____“I always think things can’t get weirder.” Dean said to herself._ _ _ _

____“Why not just wear pajamas all day?” Gabriel said._ _ _ _

____Her suggestion was met with nods all around the diverse group: Dean in shorts and a tank top, Sam in sweatpants and a T-shirt, Cas in one of Dean’s shirts, Crowley looking like a lingerie model in something made of black silk, and Gabriel in her matching shorts and pajama top patterned with candy._ _ _ _

____The god appeared just long enough to say, “Because I said so.” and immediately disappear._ _ _ _

____“Well, I guess that settles it,” Sam said._ _ _ _

____Later, the decidedly less diverse group had the privilege of noticing the name tags said their names, but instead of saying their workplace, just said “boat.”_ _ _ _


End file.
